Imagine a labor of love spanning nearly six decades—a father and son bonding over a shared passion for cars, culminating in a one-of-a-kind hot rod that’s as much a time capsule as it is a vehicle. But here’s where it gets controversial: Is preserving such a car a testament to tradition, or does it risk turning a functional machine into a museum piece? Let’s dive into the story of Len Palmeri and his extraordinary creation.
Updated March 3, 2026, 1:30 p.m. ET
Len Palmeri’s journey with his home-built hot rod began in 1968, when he was just 18 years old. Alongside his father, Tony, he transformed a 1929 Mercedes-inspired design into a reality in their east Detroit garage (now Eastpointe). Today, nearly 60 years later, the car remains a testament to their dedication—and it’s far from just a relic. Built on a 1956 Chevrolet frame and powered by a Corvette engine with a six-speed transmission, this silver two-seat convertible is a blend of vintage charm and modern performance. But what truly sets it apart are the personal touches that reflect Palmeri’s bond with his late father.
And this is the part most people miss: The car’s dual spare tires aren’t just a quirky design choice—they’re a nod to the 1930s, an era Tony Palmeri adored. This attention to detail extends to other elements, like the 1936 Ford headlights gifted by a family friend, the Dodge Charger gas cap, and the Ford Model A taillights. Yet, the car isn’t a patchwork of parts; it’s a cohesive masterpiece that tells a story of family, craftsmanship, and shared memories.
Palmeri, a retired General Motors designer and former journeyman tool and die maker, credits his father for teaching him not just how to build a car, but how to approach life with ingenuity and patience. ‘That was a great gift,’ he reflects. ‘You carry that with you the rest of your life.’ Their process was meticulous: they crafted parts from cardboard templates before shaping them in steel, ensuring every piece fit perfectly. Even the red pinstriping, added by a friend, serves as a reminder of the relationships forged during the car’s creation.
One of the most intriguing aspects of the car is its name, ‘Andare,’ derived from the Italian root for ‘to go.’ Palmeri chose this name to honor his family’s heritage and the car’s purpose—it’s built to move, not just to be admired. And move it does. Palmeri once pushed it to 140 mph, though he admits, ‘It was pretty scary.’ Today, while he doesn’t use it as a daily driver, he frequently takes it on long trips, including the entire length of Route 66 and California’s Highway 1.
Here’s where opinions might differ: Palmeri swapped the original Mercedes hood ornament for a peace sign after retiring from GM, a nostalgic nod to the 1970s when children would flash the symbol as he drove by. Is this a fitting tribute to a bygone era, or does it detract from the car’s historical authenticity? Let us know what you think in the comments.
The car’s impact extends beyond its mechanical marvel. Palmeri cherishes the connections it’s helped him make: ‘The best part of the car is all the people I meet that would never talk to me if it wasn’t for this car,’ he says. Honored with a Preservation Award at this year’s Detroit Autorama, the vehicle continues to inspire, proving that sometimes, the most meaningful creations are those built with heart and history.
Eric D. Lawrence is the senior car culture reporter at the Detroit Free Press. Send your tips and suggestions about cool automotive stuff to elawrence@freepress.com. Become a subscriber at https://subscribe.freep.com/offers or submit a letter to the editor at freep.com/letters.
